


Sociology

by cubedsugar



Category: Ed Edd n Eddy
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:50:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5691835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cubedsugar/pseuds/cubedsugar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edd likes to crossdress, something he keeps hidden fairly well until a certain jock happens upon him in the dim lighting of a local club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i like this pairing too much and i like makin weird fanfics oops #itsmyaesthetic also the title is subject to change! =u=  
> also holy crap this chap is looong my bad

Edd likes music. Lots of types, honestly; he isn't sure why people often write him off as a strictly classical kind of fellow, but he doesn't mind entirely. He finds a certain appeal in having hidden, secret interests.  
  
Tonight’s track is particularly bass-heavy and rattles his chest so pleasantly that he can’t help nodding his head to the beat, short black hair swishing around his face and tickling his cheeks. He glances up for a moment, but his gaze shoots back down immediately; there's a tall man looking at him from the other side of the club's bar. From the moment Edd had stepped into the low-key but well-populated nightclub, he felt this man's eyes on him. At first he’d worried--did the man _know_ about him, or at least suspect? But minutes after he sat down to order a drink (something he rarely did, as his tolerance was quite low), he’d been given one by the bartender, "from that man down there."  
  
Though drinking isn't his habit, Double D is familiar with different kinds of cocktails and liquors. The drink is a gradient of syrupy red fading up into a sunny yellow-orange in a simple red sugar rimmed cocktail glass with a short, thick stem. Slices of strawberries are visible between the pieces of crushed ice and an orange slice is placed particularly on the rim. He can tell that this is something expensive, something meant to impress him. He blushes even as he takes dainty, slow sips of the strong, tartly sweet concoction.  
  
Edd’s drink is a bit less than a third done when someone settles beside him. The smell of smoke laced with mild sweetness reaches his nose, strong but not entirely unpleasant. "Hey. You're a pretty little thing--too pretty to be alone. This seat taken?"  
  
"Now it is," Edd replies, his voice softer than usual. Softening his voice and emphasizing his words _just so_ lends him a much more feminine quality of speaking, more believable than a saccharine falsetto. "But I don't mind it, I'm always happy for friendly company." He smiles sweetly, genuinely as he tucks a strand of black hair behind his ear. At first he'd been too nervous to move far from the door, much less smile at anyone, but two years into the charade he now regularly plays had loosed him from fear and given him a comfortable confidence in its place. Now he can’t get enough of the thrill of meeting eyes with a friendly stranger or two, people that are interested in him (though he still doesn’t dance much yet). It’s a little embarrassing to admit—not that he ever will.  
  
He switches his legs, left now crossed over his right, and doesn't miss the way the man's dark eyes follow the motion and the subtle rising of the dress against his thighs. It's cut short--shorter than he's ever worn before (barely longer than mid-thigh), but it compliments his softer curves and distracts from his angles (luckily for him, his behind is a little plush on its own—something the dress hugs nicely). The way the velvety black contrasts against his milky skin is a definite plus, as well.  
  
"Well, look no farther. I'm pretty good company." The man leans forward, waving the bartender over.  
  
'Further,' Edd corrects to himself, taking another sip. His fingers stroke the stubby stem of the glass absently once he puts it down. "Thank you. And thank you for the drink, I very much appreciate it."  
  
The man gives a toothy grin, enchanting brown eyes now openly roaming Edd’s form. He’s wearing a suit with an untucked shirt that is also unbuttoned at the collar, tie loose. He looks as if he’s just gotten off of work—Double D can’t help thinking that a club is a heck of a place to unwind. “Waiting on a boyfriend?” He asks, just before turning his head to tell something to the bartender.  
  
“No, I’m just here to relax,” Edd drags his finger along the side of the glass, slippery and wet with condensation. Their whispering makes him a bit wary, but the pleasant buzz of alcohol easily quells any concerns. “I enjoy the music as well.” He pauses to take another sip, and realizes once he pulls the glass away that it’s practically empty. “And yourself? I’m inclined to believe that you’ve come from work, given your attire.”  
  
“Someone’s perceptive. Yeah, I work at a law firm…doesn’t look good, I know, but we gotta have our fun where we can.” The man downs the rest of his drink, something of a deep amber color, and grins. “Looks like you’re all out, too. Don’t worry, I got us covered.”  
  
“N-no, thank you! One was just fine…I do appreciate your kindness, of course.” Something feels a little strange, maybe a little dangerous, but the music is nice and his chest is warm and his head is so…fuzzy. Edd can’t quite put his finger on why he’s so worried. The man flashes him another inviting, comfortable smile, and his resolve crumbles.  
  
“Come on, you can’t expect me to leave you all lonely and moping. You’re too beautiful for that.”  
  
Another drink is in front of Edd, this one a deep and heavy blue fading into a candy-colored green. “I’ve never seen this one before,” He comments as he picks it up. The liquid clings to the glass as if it’s thicker and more syrupy; he can assume it’s probably very sweet. He shouldn’t drink it—he should leave. Something’s wrong.  
   
But the man just smiles and suddenly Edd feels comfortable again. He leans close, and now Edd can smell hints of a deep, musky cologne that the man applied earlier in the day. “I’ll be straight…I’m trying to impress you. I saw you and…I knew I had to talk to you. See you up close.” The man’s eyes lock with Edd’s own in a steady gaze. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to you.”  
  
Without thinking, Edd takes a gulp of the drink to hide his red cheeks. “T-that…thank you, that’s very kind of you. I appreciate it.” He really does, and he’s so flattered, but his stomach is turning nervously and there’s suddenly an odd taste in the back of his throat that’s something other than the strong alcohol.  
  
“No one’s told you that before, huh.” The man knocks back another drink, a shot of something clear. His eye twitches minutely, though his lips rest in a gentle smile. His words aren’t exactly true: he’s been given his fair share of drinks and lustful gazes, even wolf whistles and pickup lines, but it _is_ his first time with such direct and charismatic attention. Edd feels as if he’s being swept off of his feet much too quickly.  
  
The man must mistake his silence for affirmation, because he continues. “Not even your boyfriend tells you, I bet. That’s a shame…if you were mine, I’d treat you well.”  
  
Something about the man’s suddenly unreadable expression is slightly off-putting, warning bells chiming in the boy’s head. He tries to stand, but the world sways and so does he. He silently curses his low tolerance and the mistake of not trusting his instincts, aware enough to at least berate himself. He feels a steadying hand on his shoulder, but the man’s concerned voice seems to echo from miles away. His head throbs harshly. “I’m fine, thank you,” Edd tries, but he’s not even sure he’s spoken.  
  
_“Is she okay?”_  
  
“Too much to drink, I figure…I’ll go ahead and take her home, I’m her boyfriend.”  
  
Edd’s heart thuds. That’s an odd lie for the man to tell, but he can’t open his mouth to object. His stomach turns threateningly and suddenly it hits him—he’s probably been drugged. Him, of all people! He’s always been so cautious in every other aspect of his life, and to have a lapse in judgment at a nightclub of all places…he feels like a fool—as much as he can while trying to quell the violent churning of his stomach. Somehow, this man and his friendly smile had broken down Edd’s defenses—and now he’s wondering if he’ll ever make it home again to regret it.  
  
It’s almost laughable to imagine what the man will do when he _finds out,_ but he doesn’t even have the coordination to smile.  
  
  
When Edd awakes, it’s to the sound of shouting. He’s warm and grounded in someone’s arms, and thankful for it; the world is spinning in circles even behind his closed eyelids. He feels like he’s hearing the voices under water, ears stuffed with cotton.  
  
_“—a fucking rapist! Yeah, you heard me! I’ll kick your ass if you touch my girlfriend again!”_  
  
_This again,_ Edd thinks, wondering for a brief moment just how many suitors he’d have if he took his wig off or unpadded his bra. He can tell that the voice claiming him this time is different, younger. More volatile. He can hear the man from before shouting something back, and cracks his eyes open just in time to see him making a hasty retreat in the direction of the exit. He shifts his eyes above him and meets a strong, chiseled jaw. He gets up to red hair peeking from beneath a vermillion cap before his stomach twists painfully and reminds him of what’s happened. He clutches it with one hand, pressing the back of his other hand against his mouth.  
  
“Oh, shit…sorry. Uh…I called you a cab…” The male holding him shifts and carefully helps him into a sitting position. Edd hears his own stomach gurgle. “Sorry about that…it looks like that guy drugged you or somethin’. He was trying to pull you away saying you were his girl and you had too much to drink, but I’ve seen it happen before so I could tell. …I’m not gonna go home with you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just wanna help.” Edd lets himself be ushered through the crowd of dancers, some people casting him odd, sympathetic glances as if they know what’s happened to him. And maybe they do.  
  
The moment cold autumn air hits his face, he vomits a runny puddle of drinks and the four then-freshly baked sugar cookies he’d had before he left home. He almost tumbles face-first into it, legs suddenly sapped of their energy, but an arm around his waist keeps him steady. It’s embarrassing being right up against someone so soon after expelling the contents of his stomach, but he can’t find the strength to push away.  
  
“It’s cool, happens a lot with my friend. …Not the drugs, just the puke.” The boy offers, as if he can hear Edd’s thoughts. “She likes to party a lot.” Before Edd can respond, his stomach churns violently again, but this time only a bit comes out and it’s mostly dry heaving that leaves his stomach cramped and his throat burning. “Damn…uh…when you get home, call some friends so they can check on you. And drink a lot of water. You don’t have to eat, but drink something. I’ll give you my number, so…”  
  
Edd shakes his head gently, so as not to make himself even dizzier. “I...don’t own a mobile phone,” He forces out. His voice sounds terrible, hopefully not the giveaway he feels it is. “Email is best.” It may sound odd, but he only has one cellphone and if his number were to ever circulate from the club to anyone from his school, it wouldn’t take him long to be found out.  
  
“Okay. Well, here,” The boy fishes out a small pad and miniature pen from his pocket, blushing at the strange look Edd is no doubt giving him. “It…uh…okay, maybe I came here from class. …What? I mean, it’s helpful now, right?”  
  
Edd laughs, suddenly grateful that it’d been this boy to find him and not someone else, or no one at all. But he regrets laughter immediately as he holds his stomach and slumps against him. The boy drapes Edd’s arm around his shoulder and helps him move toward the cab he hadn’t realized had already arrived.  
  
“Thank you…for this,” Edd turns to him, fighting to keep his eyes open as a sudden wave of drowsiness washes over him. He can’t control his tongue enough to keep his words from slurring. “For helping me, that is... I could have been—“  
  
“Nah. I just did what anyone would’ve done, I guess.” The boy helps him slide into the back seat of the cab and sets a piece of paper in his lap. “That’s my email. Let me…let me know you got home safe, okay?” The boy smiles, and though much of the world is still swaying, Edd can easily make out a bright red cap, orange hair, and green eyes shining with concern.  
  
“I will,” Edd smiles, and by the way his face feels odd and not his own, he can tell that the drugs and alcohol are still circulating through his body. He leans against the window once Kevin closes the door, the cool glass dissipating only a tiny bit of the fog in his head. He doesn’t remember telling the driver his address, but a few short minutes he’s being helped out of the cab again. When Edd looks up apologetically, the driver gives him a small smile that says ‘I’ve done this before, I’m used to it’.  
  
He starts awake with a gasp, clawing at the sheets. He isn’t sure what exactly has him so alarmed until the sounds of life slowly fade in and he realizes his alarm clock is blaring twenty-two minutes past 8:00am. He moves to turn it off instinctively, but as his hand comes down his head throbs sharply and he misses the off button entirely, knocking the thing and his lamp onto the floor. At least that shuts it up anyway.  
  
“What in the world happened last night?” Hands pressed to his temples, the drowsy boy gives his room a drowsy once-over. His usually neat and tidy dwelling looks ransacked compared to its usual condition. There’s a plate on his floor, two pairs of pajama bottoms, his sleeping cap hanging on the door handle…he only spots one of his black pumps. His stomach drops at the thought of being robbed, but his eyes fall on his purse, undisturbed on the desk, and he relaxes.  
  
He sits for a while, hands fisted in his dark blue sheets, eyes narrowed as he tries to piece together the night before. He gets only as far as a handsome man offering him a drink and feeling sick to his stomach shortly thereafter, before something draws his eyes to the analog clock above his door.  
  
It’s 8:39am, and Eddward realizes he’s late for class.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trash for taking this long!!! i hope to become a little more regular =u= thank you for sticking with me! i hope this is well written, i don't have anyone to beta anything for me \o/

Edd makes it to his 8:30am class at 9:07am. His apartment isn't far, only about ten minutes walking, but once he'd stood up to dress at 8:40, he began to feel the effects of the alcohol and whatever else he'd ingested once more. He knows he should stay home with the way his stomach is moving and turning and the way his head throbs, but he can't bring himself to stay in bed and waste a day of academic progress. He's only got two classes today, so he promises to himself to rest afterward.  
  
“Late, Eddward? How uncharacteristic of you!”  
  
Edd swallows his panting, head lowered shamefully as he trudges into class. Of course the professor would interrupt a lesson to say something to him. “Please accept my sincerest apologies.” He only half means it—he's got a nearly spotless attendance record for his whole college career, this class included. He doesn't understand why people never give him a break.  
  
_Perhaps if I cared less, like other students,_ he sighs to himself. Legs still trembling, he shuffles between the desks to get to his spot in the second row, one away from the window. He's finally caught his breath when he pulls out his binder, only to lose it again when his eyes catch on someone's red hat. It's the boy from the club, or at least the back of him; Edd can tell without a doubt from the orange hair peeking beneath that hat. If he turned around, he would have those same emerald eyes from last night.  
  
Edd's grip on his binder tightens as his heart leaps into his throat, only to sink to his stomach like a lead weight as the gravity of the situation hits him. _It's the boy from the club._ Panic has his heart racing once more even as he calmly unpacks his pencils for note taking. His little hobby is something that he takes great care to hide; only the people he trusts know about it, and that's how he prefers it to be.. But if this boy sees him, _recognizes_ him...  
  
Why that club, of all places? He'd been careful to choose clubs that were out of the way, clubs that students didn't frequent. He'd glanced a vaguely familiar face or two in the venue, but nothing lasting and nothing this close. _I had to be intrigued with such a…dangerous activity, didn’t I? I couldn’t have been interested in dapper men’s clothing!_ He doesn’t realize how loudly he’s tapping his pencil until he catches a fellow student’s sideways glance. Embarrassed, he settles for rolling the pencil between his palms. _Calm yourself, Eddward,_ he thinks, mindlessly jotting down notes from the board. _If I don’t catch his eyes, I should be fine. There are only about four months in a semester anyway, right? This shouldn’t be very hard…class meets twice a week…I think I can manage that._  
  
“Like I said earlier, make sure to change the dates on your syllabus. The lecture scheduled for today will be next class, and I’m going to have you split off in your pairs this class. Once you get your topic together and run it by me, you can go.”  
  
_Pairs?_ Edd wracks his brain—he’s memorized the first four weeks of curriculum for all five of his classes so as not to be caught off guard, so it doesn’t take him long to remember what today’s schedule was supposed to be: a lecture on aspects of sociology as they apply to daily life. The day after is splitting into pairs to explore and prepare a presentation on a social issue. _That isn’t so bad, as long as I’m not paired with him. But out of at least twenty other students, I highly doubt that I need to be concerned._  
  
“Oh, Kevin, looks like you'll have a partner after all,” The professor says. She marks what Edd assumes to be an attendance sheet, but before he can even ponder the meaning of her words, someone pulls up to his desk.  
  
“Alright, dork. You got any ideas?”  
  
“I beg your pardon?” Edd makes to say, but the words die in his throat as a shriek. It’s the guy from the club, the guy he was so sure he could avoid. He swallows, eyes wide as if he's been caught in a lion's den with a steak necklace. “Oh,” is all he can manage after a period of awkward silence. It finally occurs to him to lower his head, heart quickening as the possibility of being noticed and called out becomes very real and very imminent.  
  
“'Oh' what? You gonna come up with somethin'?”  
  
Any shock and fear that the behatted boy may have immediately dissipates, replaced by a flare of defiant anger. He hasn't come all this way to college just for it to be a repeat of his high school days. “You listen here, sir,” Edd's head whips up as he closes his notebook with a glare. “I will not allow you to verbally strong-arm and intimidate me into doing all of the work for a _partner_ presentation! No, sirree! We will both-- _together_ , as it were--come to a conclusion regarding a suitable topic, at which point we will both _work together_ to present it.”  
  
Kevin laughs, leaning back in his chair casually. “That's funny, dork. What are you gonna do if I say no?”  
  
_Is he serious?_ Edd gives the boy two slow, incredulous blinks. He's surprised that people in college still act so childishly, but they were all once high school students, he supposes. “I will be forced to inform the professor, who will either switch me to someone less unwilling to work or give you the grade you deserve if you intend to keep that attitude.” Whatever semblance of a gentleman Kevin had been to Edd at the club is nowhere to be found in his smirk. Honestly, he's surprised he isn't more intimidated by the redheaded boy, but all he can muster is annoyance.  
  
If he hasn't been discovered yet, he knows he won't be.  
  
“Fine, dorky. Don't get your panties in a knot,” Edd barely contains a flinch at the expression, though he knows he's wearing traditionally male undergarments beneath his cargo shorts today. Kevin seems disinterested in further teasing with the gap-toothed boy's lack of response. “I'll help. What are we doing?”  
  
“That depends.” Grateful for the change in tone, Edd flips open his text book. “Where would you like to focus in terms of a social issue?"  
  
They talk for about fifteen minutes, if Edd's impeccable time-keeping skills don't deceive him. He's mindful to use shorter, simpler words with the redhead—he hates to repeat himself too much, and he can already tell that the boy's vocabulary isn't quite as vast as his own. Despite that, it's a surprisingly easy, scholarly chat—with Kevin adding crude, though often useful remarks and suggestions between expectant glances down at his phone. Finally, they both make their way to the professor's desk, Edd as the preordained proposer of their topic. He explains their idea, a bit nervously, suddenly hit with the thought that perhaps he shouldn't have chosen a topic he feels so strongly about.  
  
“Society's influence on gender expression?” The professor repeats, looking up from her computer screen. She looks pleasantly surprised, eyebrows raised behind her wide glasses. “That sounds fine. Just find a way to narrow it down in your presentation and you'll be fine.” She nods, checking their names off of her list. “You're free to go! Make sure you get in contact with each other outside of class.”  
  
Outside of the classroom door, Edd pauses. “...Kevin, was it? I need your number. Contact information, that is. For the project.” He keeps his gaze lowered nervously, waiting for a response. When he doesn't receive one after a few beats, he looks up curiously. Kevin is staring intently at his phone again, and now Edd's intrigued. “Are you waiting for a call?”  
  
Kevin looks up suddenly, seemingly slapped back into reality by the question. “...Email. Not that it's any of your business, Dork.” He seems almost embarrassed, if the very light flush on his cheeks isn't a trick of the poor hallway lighting.  
  
_Oh._ “I see...that's...” Edd darns his own curiosity; it's put him in an awkward situation—as it often does. It's _his_ email that Kevin is awaiting, after all. He remembers his own drunken words, _“Email is best.”_ Kevin's own response: _“Let me know you got home safe, okay?”_ Though hardly of the mind to appreciate the gesture last night, the memory now makes him blush. This really is the same guy, somehow, though Edd chalks his current brashness up to the college atmosphere. “...Interesting.”  
  
_I suppose I should let him know I got some safely._ Thinking that as he looks Kevin right in the face only kind of strikes him as odd.  
  
“Email, huh?” A voice repeats behind Edd, but he doesn't need to turn around to know who the rough, teasing tone belongs to. “How old's this chick, sixty? Good goin', Shovel Chin!” Eddy wraps an arm around Edd's neck, dragging him down to meet his own 5'2'' height. “Maybe Double D'll let you borrow his feather duster for all the cobwebs!” The shrillness of Eddy's voice makes his ears ring.  
  
“Real funny, Dorky.” Kevin is wearing a look of complete contempt, gritting his teeth. “I was hoping you transferred or something.”  
  
“You wish! Sockhead, what are you talkin' to Shovel Chin for?” Eddy looks satisfied after visibly ruffling Kevin, like a cat that's finally eaten the canary.  
  
“A partner project, I was just asking for his contact information.” Edd replies. A thought stops him from elaborating further. “Kevin never said it was a girl, Eddy.”  
  
Once the shorter boy realizes what Edd is referring to, he grins. “Didn't have to! Look at that sick puppy face. I mean, it could be a guy. I always figured since freshman—“  
  
“You're lucky I don't pound you right here like I did last year, Dweeb!”  
  
Edd sighs, rolling his eyes. He never thought he would see the day where someone was just as much of a child as Eddy. “Gentlemen, as much as I hate to break this exchange, I have a class in fifteen minutes and I would prefer not to be late. Kevin, may I take your number so that we can work on the project later?”  
  
Kevin drags his glare away from Eddy, to huffily hand his phone to the behatted Edd with the contacts screen showing. Edd puts his number in and sends himself a polite text, indicating that it's Kevin's number. “There we are. Thank you, and I'll be sure to call in regards to our project. Eddy, I'm afraid I'll have to see you later...I feel a bit ill and will not be up for shenanigans after my next class.”  
  
Eddy gives him an odd look as Kevin walks away after a nonchalant shrug. “Wild night?”  
  
“...You could say that.”

  
. . . . . .

  
Edd pauses his fingers above the keyboard, seafoam blue eyes staring at the empty space of a new email. He can't figure out how he's supposed to approach Kevin now, even though it should _be_ easier through a method like email. The boy is rude, crass, and likely to make the rest of Edd's college career hell if he were to ever find out that the girl he rescued isn't a girl at all.  
  
“But he does deserve to know that I got home safe,” he murmurs to himself with a sigh. “And I could be jumping to conclusions. Just because he helped me doesn't mean he's attracted to me, right? There should be no harm done.”  
  
Thoughts somewhat settled, he begins typing.  
  
_Thank you for last night, I appreciate it. I must also apologize once more for how I acted...I am usually much more in control of my own actions. When you left me your email address, you didn't leave me your name. I_ could _call you MachoManLifter66, but that is a bit of a mouthful._  
  
Here, Edd pauses. It seems only polite to offer his own name, but he's never given himself a name in his cross-dress. It isn't as if he's suddenly a different person with heels on, but he realizes that he can't possibly use his own name—not unless he has a death wish.  
  
_My name is Edith. Again, thank you. I don't know where I would be right now if you hadn't intervened._  
  
Edd pauses again. He should really tie this all up in a nice, neat bow and never contact this boy again. It's too dangerous, and he's had enough of danger after last night.  
  
_You said you came straight from school. Is that something you usually do? Do you go to school in the area? I haven't seen you around before._  
  
That shouldn't be too bad, he figures. He'd feel horrible sending an impolite email after the boy's done so much for him. A short conversation should be enough to let the emails trail off naturally.  
  
_I hope to hear back from you soon, mystery savior._

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuk m8 this was so hard to type  
> college is draining me but i'm so fucking determined to finish SOMETHING like it's really upsetting me how much finished work i DON'T HAVE
> 
> thank you everyone that's read up to this point, and anyone that continues to read. you have my eternal gratitude and apology for keeping you waiting so long.
> 
> p.s. sorry if the spacing is off? i tried to fix it : , )

_I didn't expect you to ever send me anything back. Glad you're ok, I was just doing what any respectable guy would. It's not that big a deal, my friend is worse off than you were after just drinking. I wish someone had caught that guy, but I guess he got away...did you go to the cops yet? Either way, be careful. You might not be so lucky to have me there next time._

_Also...please don't ever type that again. Or even think it, actually.  It's kinda embarrassing, the email...I never felt like changing it after I made it in 9 th grade. Call me Kevin instead, Edith. I go to a school that's kinda close, do you? You look familiar, but I don't think I've seen you around. Maybe at the club before, I've been to that one a few times.  
  
You looked really nice the other night, by the way. Hope you respond sometime.  
  
P.S.: Why do you **not** have a cellphone in this day and age? That's weird. What if you have to call someone? Like me, for instance?  
  
  
_ His name is Kevin. Edd knows that already, but for some reason hearing it from Kevin himself makes it seem like a new name. He seems like a different person just through email; much less aggressive and definitely more playful. It's something Edd can get used to—or _could_ , if he were on the receiving end. But he isn't.

 _Edith_ is.

Regardless, his eyes giddily scan the last lines perhaps a few times more than he's willing to admit. He really should end it here, though. It isn't safe. He's gone his whole college and cross dressing career so far without mishap, and he would like to keep it that way. With a sigh, he closes the window for the email service—just in time for a knock at his front door. He doesn't recall expecting company, but just as he makes to ask the visitor to wait a moment, they let themselves in.

“I sincerely wish you would not utilize the key I gave you—now regretfully so, might I add.”

Eddy grins despite Double D's words, motioning for Ed to follow him inside. The taller male has a large box in his arms, something that should be a feat to carry for any normal human. “Yeah, yeah, Sockhead.  You got mail, by the way; buyin' more dresses?” The teasing, sing-song tone makes Edd roll his eyes, but he can't find it in him to be offended. His two best friends for almost all of his life are two of the only people he trusts with his secret.  
  
“I haven't bought anything recently,” he says, bending down to examine the shipping label of the box. “It's from Mother and Father.” He turns away to fetch the scissors and open it, but ripping cardboard indicates Eddy's lack of patience as he tears through the box with his hands. “Eddy! Mind my floor, please!” He doesn't even bother to chide the shorter male about minding privacy as well.  
  
“Hey, they sent you shoes! Maybe I should start crossdressing so my parents can actually send me shit for once, too. ...I'm joking,” he adds hastily at the excited twinkle in Double D's eyes. “I don't think I have the body for it.”  
  
Peeking into the shredded box he sees that they have, in fact, sent him two pairs of shoes. And two skirts. And a cute, flowing blouse that will probably hang a bit off of his shoulders. Beneath the top layer of feminine clothes, he sees an orange shirt much like the one he usually wears in male attire. He digs past a skirt to pull up a large post-it note.

 

_Eddward,_

_Your mother found these pieces in the attic, some things from her younger years. She thought that you may get more use from them than she will. We hope you like them. How is school? Your mother says I should “get with the times” and text you instead, but I think I prefer this. Anyway, I hope school isn't giving you problems. We know you will do spectacularly as you have been. How are Short Edward and Tall Edward? Tell them I say hello. If you need anything at all, let us know._

_Mother & Father._

Edd smiles at the note fondly, setting it gently beside the box. The clothes are fashionably aged, now that he looks at them, and he begins planning “70s revival” styled outfits from the pieces. “Mother and Father say hello.” He conveniently forgets to mention his father's less than creative identifiers. “They've asked how I'm doing...I'm fine, of course...but I didn't get to tell either of you what happened last night.” Here it is. He'd been wondering how to lead up to this bit of information, and this seems like the best time. “I have something to tell you both.”

“This better not be a pregnancy announcement, Sockhead.” Eddy turns his full attention to Double D and sits on the floor. Ed follows shortly, a carton of eggs in one arm and a bag of cookies in the other, interest visibly piqued as well.  
  
Edd swallows, stomach churning uneasily. “This isn't...that is...it isn't very important, honestly...” His glance darts away, then back to the faces of the two Eds before him. He squeezes his eyes shut, “I...I was drugged last night...and I think that I may not be here right now if it wasn't for--”  
  
“Wait, what?” Eddy interrupts, shooting to his feet. “You were _what_?”

Edd opens his mouth to repeat, both touched and annoyed at being interrupted, but Ed's vice-like hug wrenches the breath from him. “Double D! You could have gotten hurt! We would have never known what happened, like that episode of Space Invasion--!"

“Sockhead, didn't I tell you to call us if something was weird?! For a brainiac, you're really fucking stupid!”

Double D flinches, suddenly uncomfortable with the bombardment of attention. “Well, forgive me for not immediately pulling out my phone, but I am an adult and very capable of taking care of myself, thank you!”

“Obviously not! You could have gotten killed, and--!”

“Well, I didn't because _Kevin_ was--”  
  
“You--! ...Wait, Kevin? _Kevin?!_ Like, shovel-chin, red cap, bike Kevin?”

Double D bites his lip, cursing his temper. That wasn't the exact way that he'd wanted to introduce the point of his story, and now Eddy's hurt look only leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “...Yes, that Kevin. He just happened to be there.”  
  
Eddy sits back down heavily, sighing. “Great. First he steals my girlfriend, now he's stealing my best friend.”  
  
Edd forgoes mentioning the fact that Nazz never belonged to anyone, instead smiling comfortingly. “I would have called you if I were sober, as soon as I realized what was going on.”  
  
Eddy huffs and looks up at Edd, pride visibly wounded, but looking at least a bit more consoled. “...You better have. Fucking shovel chin. Always bein' a--”

Ed shoves a cookie (and half of his hand) in Eddy's mouth, effectively silencing him. “We're your friends, Double D. We wanna help, too! And coach says that I can probably bulldoze over anyone if I wanted to, so I can do that! And Eddy can...talk!”  
  
Edd chuckles, nodding gratefully. “Thank you, Ed. I'll take you both up on that next time I go out. It was only a temporary lapse of judgment on my behalf, it shouldn't happen again.”  
  
“It better not,” Eddy grumbles, once he's shoved Ed's hand away. “Otherwise, I'll do more than talking.”

-.-.-.-.-

Between school work and studying, Edd forgets about the email. It isn’t until Friday that he realizes he hasn’t replied yet. The thought comes to him suddenly as he’s studiously color-coding his notes. He pauses mid-highlight. It’s only been two days since he’s last replied, so that isn’t too bad…right?

When he realizes he’s pressing the highlighter into the page, he gasps and pulls away quickly. There’s a dark patch where the neon yellow has soaked into this sheet and the two beneath it. Edd huffs through his nose, glaring at his now ruined notes. He switches his glare to the back of a certain oblivious jock’s head, the vibrant red of his cap burning into Edd’s eyes.

Damn this boy.

He continues taking notes again, this time on autopilot. He can’t stop thinking about the email. _‘What if you need to call someone? Like me, for instance?’_ He can even hear the words in Kevin’s voice—something he isn’t sure how to feel about just yet. Right now he’s too busy wrestling with the guilt of leaving the message without a reply.

He stares at Kevin’s back, watching his elbows move as he scrawls his own notes—likely minimal and messy, given the way the jock acted normally. What a shock it would be if he was actually a good student. The redhead doesn’t seem as fidgety as he had the last time he was waiting for Edd’s reply.

 _Edith’s_ reply.

Though Edd loses himself in his thoughts, his hands don’t stop writing. They don’t stop until the professor caps her black dry-erase marker and begins clearing the board, students shuffling to pack up as if on command. He can’t remember a word of what she’s said and finds his notes useless when he looks down; they echo his thoughts.

_Is this even a good idea? I should stop. I need to stop. It’s already gone far enough, hasn’t it? But it would be rude to leave him without a response, wouldn’t it? But if he finds out…_

Double D forcefully shuts the notebook, glancing around to be sure that the students moving past him haven’t caught a glance of any of the words. He’s never been so careless as to completely miss a lecture.

“You doin’ okay, Dork? You look like you stole something. Got a secret to hide?”

The voice startles a gasp from him and the notebook falls on the ground, open but with the cover facing up. Kevin laughs and snatches it up, thumbing through the pages. Before Double D can even snatch it back, he pauses on a particular page and stares silently at it.

“Are you serious?” He asks, tone unreadable.

Double D’s mind and body go immediately to panic mode and he can feel his skin prickle with fear. “I-it’s not what it…!”

Kevin lets out a burst of laughter, laying the open notebook on the capped boy’s desk. It’s open to a page of notes, highlighted and color coded with extreme care and accuracy. He has several sections involving related chapters, related pages of notes, and homework to do. It would put a professional planner to shame, no doubt.

“I knew you were a dweeb, but this is…wow. You really like this school shit, don’t you?” Kevin breathes, replenishing his lungs after his hardy laughter.  
  
Edd’s face burns hot with embarrassment and he snatches the journal up, relief shaking his bones. “E-excuse me! I’ll have you know that proper note-taking is _essential_ to learning and retention of knowledge, thank you very much! We’ll see where that laughter is when you get a less than perfect score on the next exam!” Ducking his head, he shoves his supplies into his bag as he wills his heart to calm.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. So are we gonna meet up for this thing or what?”

Edd looks up at Kevin, raising an eyebrow. His voice betrays his bewildered amusement. “You’re…eager to do school work?”

Kevin snorts. “Hell no, dork. But I don’t wanna hear shit from you because I didn’t ask.”

Of course. Edd shakes his head. “Well, this is something that should be discussed beforehand. If I had known, I would not have planned to meet with the chess club today.” It’s a necessary lie; he can’t be around Kevin right now—especially not alone.

“Shit, you don’t see me complaining.” A moment of silence passes, Kevin staring at Edd expectantly, before he clicks his teeth and rubs the back of his neck. It’s an endearing motion that makes him look even more like a devilish bad-boy. His team jacket only enhances the look more. “We gonna exchange numbers or what?"

Edd looks down quickly to break the eye contact before his face can redden again and fishes his phone out of his bag. After he opens the contact screen, he nods. “I’m ready.”

They exchange numbers painlessly—for the most part. Edd finds the level of ‘pain’ debatable. With the “hey dork” text he gets from Kevin, he feels painfully exposed. But somehow, with the “Yes, Kevin, hello” he sends back, he feels a tingle of excitement. It’s an odd mix, to say the least.

They part ways quickly, Kevin departing unceremoniously as Nazz waves at them (mostly Kevin) from the doorway.

-.-.-.-.-

_Hello, Kevin._

_It would be terribly rude of me to not respond; this is the least I can do. No, I didn’t call the authorities. I can hardly remember his face anymore…though I worry that he may do this to someone else. I hope you scared him straight. I’ll be more careful in the future, don’t worry. Next time I’ll have friends with me._

_I don’t go to school in the area at all, unfortunately. I’m just here visiting family for a while. I’m from a few hours up North. I have a very plain face, so I’m not surprised you think you’ve seen me before. And thank you very much! I have to say, I think you were very handsome yourself. At least, what I remember._

_RE: PS: What if, indeed. I suppose we would just have to continue emailing, wouldn’t we? If that bothers you, please don’t feel obligated to respond. You’ve already been far too kind. I actually dislike cellphones, but I suppose you’re right. I should get with the times, shouldn’t I?_

_Thank you._

Kevin rereads the email one more time. “See? It’s like she’s…I don’t know. Not my age.”

Nazz chuckles as she switches the ice pack from her left knee to her right. Her dainty, French-manicured fingers pluck his cellphone from his grip and she scrolls through the email. “You always did like older women, didn’t you!”

“Not just older,” he protests, massaging more cream into his shoulder. Practice today was rough for both of them. “ _Mature_. Like her.” He smiles to himself as he says it. Though he’s only seen her in unflattering situations so far—sprawled out, unconscious, and puking into bushes—he can’t stop thinking about her. “I wanna see her again.”

“It’s weird,” Nazz thumbs through the past emails. “It’s not like she’s trying to put you off…she must really not have a cellphone. Or she’s hiding something!”

Kevin rolls his eyes at the latter statement. “Yeah, like what?” He stands and stretches, wincing when his bones pop. “She’s a spy?”  
  
“Maybe.” Nazz grabs a sweatshirt from her gym bag and pulls it on when a chill makes her bare shoulders shake. She’d taken it off before to use the muscle cream on the parts of her shoulders that the spaghetti straps of her camisole didn’t cover. “Or…she’s got a boyfriend already?”

Kevin frowns at that. Does he really know enough about her to say that it couldn’t be true? Definitely not. But something in him knows.  “I don’t think so.”

Nazz shrugs, used to Kevin’s generally spot-on gut feelings. “Okay. Then good luck! Why not ask her on a date?”

Kevin snatches his phone back instantly. “No.”

Nazz’s eyebrows disappear into her blunt, blonde bangs. “No way! The Smooth Ladykiller, super sexy bad boy Kevin _isn’t_ gonna try to ask a pretty girl out? She must really be something. I would’a thought you’d be trying to sex her up or something.”

Kevin makes a face. “’Sex her up’? Really?” He sighs then. “Nah, I don’t know…there’s something about her. I just kinda…wanna know her.”

Nazz chirps her sentiments, “aww!” and “look who’s growing up!” Kevin’s cheeks grow warm and he growls an empty insult before grabbing his towel and retreating to the bathroom to wash up for bed. Nazz’s eyes catch a glow on the floor—Kevin’s phone, unlocked and face-up.

A wide, devious grin spreads across her face.

-.-.-.-.-

_Hey, Lovely,_

_Phone or not, let’s go out sometime. Soon. Really, really soon. How about tomorrow at 7? It’s a Saturday, I’m free…are you free? Let me know. I can pick you up on my sweet bike, we can go out to dinner—of course, I’ll pay, and then we can look at the stars. Hope that sounds as good to you as it does to me._

_I’ll be waiting for your reply._

Nazz’s fingers just press send as Kevin comes into the room. His eyes instantly go from her face to his phone, then back to her face—now wearing an innocent expression, as if she’s done no wrong.

“You’re a fucking _menace_ , I swear to—what did you do?”

Nazz hums and places his phone down gently. “Nothing! I just…you know.”

Kevin snatches it off of the floor and thumbs through the emails. “ _No,_ I do—…”

Nazz pulls a sports magazine from beside Kevin’s bed. “Nothing! Just accelerating things a little. Helping you out! You’re welcome.”

Kevin sucks in a breath as his eyes scan over his email— _Nazz’s_ email. “What the _fuck_ , Nazz! You made me look like a lame-ass dork!”

Nazz shrugs. “I thought it was sweet.”

Kevin drags his hand across his face. He really, really wishes he could hate her. “I can’t fuckin’ believe you.” He drags his feet to the bed, drops the phone, and falls onto the mattress. Nazz rocks gently with the bounce, but it doesn’t interrupt her page flipping. “I don’t know what you’re so stressed about.”

Inside, she’s beaming. Kevin can tell. He buries his face into his two pillows, deeply enough that he can’t hear the phone chime. Nazz says something, he can feel the vibration of her voice through the bed, but he doesn’t move. He can’t stop imagining Edith’s face, her sparkling seafoam eyes, crinkled with laughter as she shows off his message to her boyfriend, faceless in the world of Kevin’s mind. Naturally, he’s sure to be more handsome than Kevin (why else would she be with him?), but something like that is admittedly hard to imagine.

 _How the fuck do I fix this?_ He thinks, groaning. _I guess I can just tell her it was Nazz, but then she’ll think we’re dating…fuck._

Suddenly, the breath is knocked from his chest. The redhead lifts his head, shocked by the blow, and cranes his neck to see Nazz sitting on his back. She shoves the phone in his face. The bright screen burns his eyes and he squints against the blue-toned light to read.

 

_Dear Kevin,_

_Oh, my. This is the first time I’ve ever been asked anything like this._

_I would be delighted to go with you, tomorrow at 7. I’ll meet you at Central Station. I’m quite punctual, so please don’t be late!_

_I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long._

 

Nazz puffs her chest, prideful. “See! I told you.”


End file.
